


As a Reed Before the Tempest

by Dryad



Series: Fables [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, M/S-something, NC17, Season 6-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dryad/pseuds/Dryad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He leaned in closer, warm breath washing her ear as he spoke.  "I believe all I asked for was the opportunity to finish what I started."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Suggested listening: DJ Krush/Mu-Getsu/Ki-Oku (ft. Toshinori Kondo).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
'If love is a danger...  
...should we avoid it?'

DJ Krush/Danger of Love/Zen  
(vocal ft. Zap Mama)  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~*~

 

Scully ostensibly left her office to pop downstairs and grab the Flaherty file, but really it was just an excuse to get away from Agent Dickerson’s smarmy comments. It wasn’t like he had to stand directly outside in the hallway, talking about Mulder as if he didn’t know she would overhear. Her office door was being replaced for some reason or another - the note left on her desk had been suspiciously vague – and it seemed that everyone who passed had to either stick their head in and say hello or ask her why she wasn’t with the Spookster.

She was far beyond the point of being pissed off. Hence, the trip to the basement. Before she said something she wouldn’t regret.

A week had passed since she’d last seen Mulder, although he had called once in the middle of the night just to say hi. The conversation had been ridiculously short, consisting of a "How are you", a "Tired", a "Me too", finishing with "Okay, I'll talk to you later". No doubt she would have been more talkative had she not been utterly exhausted from doing two full autopsies and an assist in one day.

Scully unlocked the door and stepped inside, stopping a moment later. Mulder's desk lamp was on, and she had definitely turned it off on Tuesday. Several files were spread willy-nilly across the table she claimed for herself. She had one hand on her gun before she even realized what had caught her attention – movement in the darkened corner to her right.

"Close the door."

Scully exhaled and did as requested. "I thought you were going to call me when you got back?"

Mulder came out of the storage area and tossed some photos on the desk, then approached her. "I wasn't sure what kind of reception I'd get."

"Which means what?" she asked, crossing her arms, ignoring the familiar faded spiciness of his aftershave and the warmth of his body as he towered over her. With the only light coming from behind him, she couldn't see his expression, just the soft glitter of the whites of his eyes.

"You weren't exactly thrilled the last time we spoke."

"Mulder, it was three in the morning!"

"So?" He jerked back a little. "I thought...last week - "

Ah. "I still expect you to make good on your promise."

"I don't recall promising anything, Scully," he said.

She looked down, abruptly certain he could see her unease. Had she got it all wrong? Had she read more into his parting words than he had meant? More importantly, had she made a monumental error in timing? _God_. She felt her cheeks heat and tried desperately to think of an excuse to return upstairs.

He leaned in closer, warm breath washing her ear as he spoke. "I believe all I asked for was the opportunity to finish what I started."

Scully took a step back.

He followed.

Two more and she was against the door. She prepared for a kiss as his head dipped down, only to feel acid roil in her stomach when he ducked towards her shoulder instead. What the hell was his game? The featherlight touch of his lips on her neck tickled. It was hard to protest the very thing she wanted, but seeing as they were in the office she had to make a half-hearted attempt at refusing his advance. "Mulder..."

A gentle suck below her ear and she was gone. She lost herself in the heat of his mouth, the slight graze of his teeth, the damp trail left by his tongue cooling her skin. Scully shivered and tilted her head to give him better access. This, this was what she had denied herself. 

There had been other men during their partnership, lonely encounters which had left her even more brittle despite the brief release of tension. Save one, she had never mentioned their names in his presence, or even let him know what she was doing, for pride's sake - and fear of his judgement. She had always assumed he had done the same thing, perhaps even for the same reasons.

She brought her hands up to his chest, felt the solidity of muscle and bone, the strength of the heart beating beneath. At this touch he drew back, still clutching her shoulders as if afraid she would run at the first opportunity. 

There was nothing to say, really. Scully let desire filter through her fingertips, watched the trail her hands took as they drifted over his torso. Here should be the scar from where she had shot him, and there, the thin, knotted tissue from the slash of razor sharp nails in New Jersey. Lower still, the pale seams of surgery suffered for another long ago gunshot, a physical reminder of the death of her father. On a whim, she moved one hand to the left. 

Mulder inhaled sharply.

Well, this was a bonus, albeit an expected one. Nevertheless, it was always nice to have theories tested and become solid fact. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the light, she saw his slight frown while she measured his growing erection through his trousers. A good length and breadth, neither too big nor too small, with a mild lean towards one hip – although that could be because of constricting boxer briefs, which had been his underwear of choice the last time she'd had to undress him after an injury.

To hell with caution. Scully wanted to see what he looked like. She didn't bother with unbuttoning, simply pulled down his zipper, reached in and drew him out.

Which still wasn't enough. He made a strangled sound when she crouched to get a closer view. Temptation was urging her to open her lips and taste, just a little nibble, like eating a chocolate-covered cherry. The trick was to start at the top, licking until a small hole was formed, savoring the bitter of the chocolate, drawing in the sweet of the syrup so as not to make a sticky mess all over one's face and fingers. But chocolate-covered cherries didn't pulse on one's hand.

"Please – _don't._ "

Scully looked up at the desperation in his tone. He loomed over her, palms flat against the door, eyes squinched shut. She was ashamed, then, for putting him in such a situation. With cosmic timing the phone rang, and she quickly tucked him in before sliding out to answer it. 

"Scully," she faced the desk, irritated at the interruption yet wanting to give Mulder a chance to recover his equilibrium.

"Agent Scully? Hi, this is Gilberto Ochoa, I'm a friend of Pilar MacLeish? She said you might be able to do me a huge favor."

"Yes?"

Ochoa cleared his throat. "I'm an Agent with the BATF – "

"Any inter-Agency requests would have to go directly through Assistant Director Skinner, Agent Ochoa," she interrupted, idly playing with a broken-tipped pencil.

There was a brief silence. "This was personal, Agent Scully, but I suspect I've already overstepped the bounds on this matter. Thank you for your time."

Listening to the dial tone, Scully briefly closed her eyes and made a mental note to call Pilar in the next couple of days. Ever since the function at her house, the Brazilian had apparently made it her mission in life to get Scully married off. The facts of Scully's job – the constant travel, the danger, the hospitilizations – appeared to make no difference to Pilar. Well, maybe nothing did when you were as rich as Croesus.

Replacing the handset into its cradle, she glanced at Mulder. He remained against the door, arms crossed, scrutinizing her like she was a suspect. Unsure of what to do next, Scully figured running was her best option. Snagging the Flaherty file, and the Boyd file too, so it looked like she had actual research in mind, she strode towards him, hopefully fast enough to reach escape velocity.

He stepped aside at the last moment. "My place, tonight."

With one hand on the doorknob and a nod directed towards his tie, she silently agreed. 

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> 'The stars light up my life  
> The stars light up my life  
> So bright  
> Everlasting'
> 
> Cinematic Orchestra/Evolution/Every Day  
> (vocal ft. Fontenella Bass)  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~*~

Someone had polished the 42. The numbers were bright, shiny with the antiqued look only brass held. She'd never been one of those women attracted to 'Olde Worlde' hammered brass buckets and coal scuttles and umbrella stands, the kind sold all over the country at tourist traps and those Victoriana specialty shops found in upmarket malls. Actually, she'd never been fond of brass at all. Give her patinaed silver candlesticks and solid plates in dark pewter, copper kettles streaked with verdigris. After years of looking at the 42, though, she was beginning to see the appeal of brass. 

Scully sighed and quickly passed one hand over her hair, smoothed the end of her thin top over her hips, straightened her jacket. When was the last time she'd felt nervous waiting for Mulder to open the door? Hell if she could remember. And then the handle turned and the door swung open and there he stood, barefoot, in dark jeans and an olive green tee shirt.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi. Can I come in?"

He stepped back, closing the door behind her. "I'll take your coat. What's in the bag?"

"Junk food," she transferred the paper bag from one hand to the other as she slipped out of her sleeves. "Sunflower seeds, popcorn, ice cream, soda."

He followed her into the kitchen. "You bought me seeds?"

Scully slid the small yellow and white David's bag down the counter towards him before putting the ice cream in the freezer. She popped the top of a soda she didn't particularly want, took a sip. It was cold, almost cloyingly sweet, and instantly brought her back to sitting on the front steps with Missy, giggling at a barechested Tommy Forte while he washed his Mustang on a gloriously hot Sunday afternoon.

Mulder was staring at her incredulously. "Since when do you drink grape soda?"

She shrugged. "I haven't had any since I was a teenager. I bought some Dr. Pepper for kicks and giggles, too."

"I used to drink Moxie."

Scully folded the paper bag and shoved it under the sink, next to the bag filled with plastic bags. "Moxie?"

"It's a New England thing, like Birch Beer, Sumac tea, and chocolate jimmies on your ice cream. Cola flavored with gentian root. Reminiscent of bergamot, but not really. Like Earl Grey, it's an acquired taste."

"I love Earl Grey."

A strained silence fell. Mulder fiddled with the bag, brows drawn together tightly, eyes darting from her chest to her face.

Fear made her bold. She blurted, "So, is this going to be a 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' kind of evening?"

"I didn't ask you here for that!"

"Didn't you?" She quipped lightly. As soon as the words left her mouth she knew she'd made a mistake. "Mulder – "

He turned away, leaned against the opposite counter, shaking his head.

If this was hell, she was missing her handbasket. Courage leaving her fast, she stepped forward and slid her hands around his waist, rubbed her cheek in between his shoulderblades. "I'm sorry."

"Were you trying to be funny?" he asked, voice soft and tight with hurt.

Scully brushed her nose against his left trapezius muscle, inhaled deeply. "They don't call me the Ice Queen for nothing."

He snorted softly. "You're no ice queen."

Sliding her hands along his sides, she tried to think of words appropriate for the uncharted waters they were blithely sailing into. Well, maybe not so blithely. "I don't know what to say, Mulder. You and I...I, I'm nervous. I'm scared."

"Me too," he said, facing her at last. His expression was solemn, more so than she liked.

"Kiss me," she whispered. 

He did. Delicate, dry little kisses on her lips, hands splayed across her back, pulling her in even closer. Oh, she could grow punch-drunk on this alone, for these tiny gifts of love, of faith, of trust. 

After a few moments, Mulder pulled back slightly. "Scully."

"Mm," she toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, ridiculously happy in the face of his affection.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm really glad you're not wearing a bra."

The giggle erupted out of her before she had a chance to stop it. She'd always known forward planning plus a tight, low cut shirt would go far with Mulder. "Well, I'm really glad you noticed. Feel free to ogle."

He grinned and made a point of looking down her cleavage. "Want to watch a movie? I think Creature From the Black Lagoon is on."

Scully smiled and nodded. On the way to the living room Mulder swiped her soda and danced backwards, holding the can out her reach. "Give it back!"

"No way. You're already grapey enough."

"Mulder," It was hard to be stern, never mind look him in the eye when he kept gawking at her breasts as she hopped for her drink. "I want more of that!"

"Oh, do you now?" He promptly chugged half the can, holding her off with one hand. "What do I get in return?"

So this was how it was going to be, was it? "Haven't you figured that out yet? Tonight, you get anything you want."

The panic face made a momentary appearance before he shyly glanced at the floor, a faint flush rising on his cheeks. Keeping her own smirk firmly off her lips, she sauntered past him and sat down on the fish end of the couch. She snagged the remote and started flipping for the movie channels.

"I uh, I brought you something back from Alabama," Mulder said, setting her soda on the coffee table before walking into his bedroom.

"Tell me it doesn't involve a sport," she called. Suspicious, she picked up the can and shook it a little bit. Of course it was nearly empty. She was looking forward to an exchange of bodily fluids, but backwash wasn't one of them. Fear – no, _anticipation_ \- of the evening to come brought a faint sheen of perspiration to her forehead, and she quickly wiped it away. How the hell was she going to do this?

"Ah...it doesn't involve a sport."

His voice was oddly muffled, and when she looked up, a small plush tiger, a cuddly toy, was shaking in the air halfway up the doorframe. 

"You got me a tiger."

"I forced him to take me," it jiggled. Mulder stepped out and sat down, placed the toy on her thigh. "Besides, it was either the tiger or one of those Singing Bass things."

"Of course," God, what was the world coming to? She'd bought him seeds, he'd bought her a cuddly toy. At least they'd skipped the Second Grade 'I like you so much I have to hit you' part of the mating dance. Actually, maybe not. She _had_ shot him only months into their partnership. On the other hand, she had to admit it was exceedingly adorable of him to bring the tiger back, to lay it at her feet as if it were a sacrifice to some heathen goddess. She stroked it gently, acrylic fur soft against her fingertips. 

"You haven't even asked me how the case went," he gently chided. 

"Agent Jameson told me you were getting a high commendation," she said. "so I assumed it went well."

"Only if you think 'went well' means the men were caught after killing only," he used air quotes to emphasize. "eight people. I swear, sometimes I don't know what goes through the minds of cops. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that catching killers isn't the same thing as sending them to prison."

"Sounds bad."

"Bad? _Bad?_ They walked through blood trails, Scully, and not just the one time. The crime scene photographer, and I use the term loosely, left his cameras at home, so he jogs to the Speedy-Mart across the junction and buys one of those cardboard throwaway things, y'know, by Polaroid? To make things worse this idiot manages to fuck up the focus, even though it's a 35 millimeter instant point-and-click camera. Clothing found on the scene was conveniently left unbagged before being slung into the trunk of the Sheriff's car."

Scully winced.

"And then, to render it even more useless, it was all washed by Mrs. Carver, who was picking up her husband's dirty laundry at the station."

"Jesus, and you still managed to solve the case?"

Mulder shook his head. "The hand-tied flies hooked into the eyes of the victims were what we in VCS used to call 'a big clue'. I brought them down to the local expert and an hour later we had our bad guys in the back of a squad car."

Scully snorted. "Well, at least you caught said bad guys."

Mulder nodded and picked up the remote. "I guess Creature From the Black Lagoon isn't on after all."

"That's alright," she said, turning and kneeling next to him before she totally chickened out. She smiled and cupped his cheek, pulled his head towards her own, whispered, "I bet we can come up with something better to do."

~*~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> 'Thunder, thunder, lightning ahead  
> Now I kiss you  
> Dark  
> And  
> Long'
> 
> Underworld/Dark and Long/dubnobasswithmyheadman  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~*~

His hands – finely boned, long fingered, strong – swept the length of her body from shoulder to knee. His thighs supported her torso even as she clung to him, unable to get enough of his mouth, the silkiness of his hair. He made as if to straighten up and she pulled him back down, already addicted to the very weight of his body against her own. "No," she protested.

"You can't be comfortable," he murmured. "I'm not."

Scully released her hold around his neck and watched him sit back against the couch.

"Come on," he urged, prodding her shoulder.

She sat up, twisted around as he directed until she was flat on her back, her hands shaded blue from the light coming through the fishtank.

"That's better," Mulder said. He stared at her for a long moment, then crawled up her body, covering her completely. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?"

"With me?" she asked, raking her nails along his back through the soft cotton of his tee.

"Forever," he said, sliding down again to sit between her legs, lifting her right leg over his own. He pushed her shirt up and kissed her above the waistband of her pants, then her bellybutton. He was working his way up to her sternum when, to her eternal embarassment, her stomach rumbled loudly. His eyes went wide with astonishment even as he chuckled.

"Sorry," she muttered. "Forgot to eat before I came over."

"We can't have that," he said, patting her belly. "We're going to need our strength."

She liked the sound of that.

Mulder drew her shirt down before going to the desk. "Thai, Indian, Italian, Chinese, Lebanese, or Greek?"

"Mmm, nothing too hot, though," she warned, and at his frown continued on. "Spicy hot foods plus mucus membranes, Mulder. Owie."

Phone in hand, take-out menu in the other, he blinked at her stupidly before understanding kicked in. "Oooh. Good thinkin'."

After he called Mama Paducci's and put in their order, sans garlic bread, he made a point of sitting at the far end of the couch, trying to look completely at his ease. Unfortunately he kept breaking his cool by giving her sidelong glances when he thought she wouldn't notice.

Scully studiously kept her distance, because if she got her hands on him again, she wasn't going to stop until they were both too exhausted to move. 

It must not have been a busy night at Mama Paducci's, because the delivery guy showed up 45 minutes later. She'd been expecting a pizza and some salad, but Mulder had gone all out and ordered antipasti, baked manicotti, and lasagna, plus a fantastic array of desserts from zabaglione and amaretti to fresh figs dipped in chocolate.

She looked at him askance, wondering where on earth he'd gotten the idea she needed this kind of spread – not that she was complaining – as well what kind of restaurant considered this to be something delivered in the back of a car. Nontheless, she dug in whole-heartedly.

Happily content with a full belly and licking the last smear of cannoli innards off of her thumb, Scully froze. She slowly looked out of the corner of her eyes, abruptly aware that Mulder had crept to her side while she had been blissed out with her sweet.

"All done?" he asked in a husky voice.

Unable to speak, she nodded, and bonelessly allowed him to take her hand and lead her into his bedroom.

Later, when the room was dark, and a fresh breeze made the curtains dance, she lay awake and marveled at what had occurred. She felt so inadequate, lacking the words to express what this meant to her, what she knew it meant to him. So she settled for touch, instead.

In fact, she couldn't stop touching him. Her hands seemed to have minds of their own, and she would come back to reality from bizarre, unreasonable fantasies of the normal life, to find herself stroking his bicep, caressing his ass, exploring the tender skin of the small of his back. Mulder didn't seem to mind, he'd fallen asleep almost immediately afterwards.

Scully yawned, blinking hard after the fact.

"You should get some rest."

"I don't want to miss anything," she whispered. "Besides, weren't you just asleep yourself?"

He shook his head. "Nope. I was just resting my eyes."

"Oh, that's what they're calling it these days, huh."

"Yup."

She huffed and snuggled closer to him, enchanted by the rise and fall of his torso as he inhaled and exhaled, by the musk exhuded from his body.

"Come on, Scully, sleep," Mulder said, gently rubbing the back of her neck.

She pouted. "Tell me a story first."

"A story? Hmm, have you heard the one about the gray, the Rabbi, and the doctor?"

"A real story," she wheedled, drawing out the 'real'.

"Alright. There once was a beautiful and smart woman who met a strikingly handsome man -"

Scully snorted.

"No, really, he was. And although she was beautiful, that was not what initially caught the man's attention. He found himself first captivated by how she refused to believe what he told her, and then by her knowledge and dedication to her work, for she was a scientist. Most importantly, she was willing to become his partner when all others had ridiculed him."

"Mulder..." 

"Who's telling this story, you or me?."

Scully hummed and kissed his shoulder. "I want to hear more about this gorgeous, intelligent, and sexy doctor."

"I just bet you do..."

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aesop's Fable: The Oak and the Reeds 
> 
> A mighty Oak, straining to stand upright during the fiercest of winds, was finally toppled into a bed of Reeds. Distraught, it wondered, "How is it that you, who are so weak and fragile, remain alive, while I linger in long and slow death?"
> 
> And in return the Reeds rustled, "You fought a force far stronger than yourself, and lost, while we bend at the merest breeze, and thus survive."
> 
> Moral of the story: _Stoop to conquer_. 
> 
> _ETA 2013: I originally thought this final part was going to be a total smutfest, and then, well, not so much. Sorry!_
> 
> Who do you think was the oak, and who the reed? If you buy one Krush cd, make it Zen, which features all of his musical styles. Ki-Oku (acid jazz) and Krush (trip hop, acid jazz) are also fabulous. Apart from Final Home, Kakusei is strictly for the drum 'n' bass fanatic (Final Home can also be found on Code 4109). 
> 
> Sumac Tea – Please do not make this if you don't know the difference between Staghorn and Poison Sumac. Ask someone who knows. Please. I'm begging you. 
> 
> Moxie – it used to rock. But now, I don't know what they did, it no longer tastes right.
> 
> Jimmies – for whatever reason, the rest of the USA calls them sprinkles. The Brits call them Hundreds & Thousands, if you're wondering.
> 
> Mama Paducci's – a now defunct Italian restaurant in my hometown.
> 
> Finally, no disrespect is intended towards the Alabama police – they could very have been the Hawaiian police or the Californian police – but Mulder said he was headed towards Alabama in 'Even the Strong Must Yield', so, there ya go.


End file.
